


Coming Goodbyes

by Mariyekos



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (verbal), Dimivain Week (Fire Emblem), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Prompt: Farewell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22619488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mariyekos/pseuds/Mariyekos
Summary: The war has ended, and Faerghus is victorious. As they head back to Fhirdiad, Sylvain realizes it won't be long until he has to leave his friends, leaveDimitribehind, and he isn't looking forward to that goodbye. Hoping to fill the hole before it's dug any deeper, he tries to spark a conversation with his king to keep some of the loneliness away. It gets a lot deeper than he anticipated.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	Coming Goodbyes

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who found out Dimivain week was happening at 10:00pm last night! I'm always late to these things. So here's a fic for the "Farewell" prompt. This fic is...honestly pretty platonic. I love romance, but I'm not the best at writing it. But I'd say it definitely gets there by the end, so please bear with me. The implied/referenced child abuse tag is there to be safe, it's mostly Sylvain talking about child neglect and some verbal abuse. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

The war was over. After nearly six years of fighting, from the day the Empire launched its attack on Garegg Mach to the day Dimitri walked out of the throne room in Enbarr, injured but victorious, the seemingly endless days of battle had come to an end. Not forever, of course. There would undoubtedly be rebellions springing up right and left as some people refused to believe their nation had lost, and bandit attacks as the desperate took advantage of the chaos still churning about the nation. There would be bands of rogue soldiers trying to fight their way to power in the new government, the lone vigilante hoping to prove themself a peacekeeper worthy of becoming a new lord. The warrior who could not acknowledge their loss, who would fight until their end because as far as they were concerned, with their cause gone, it _was_ the end.

But that was depressing, and Sylvain didn’t want to think about that. He grew up with his mind constantly occupied by thoughts of battle. With Sreng, rather than the Empire and the parts of the Alliance who’d sided with their neighbors to the west, but still of battle, and he’d more than grown tired of it. He was sure to be thrust back into such thoughts the moment he got home and his father launched into a speech about strengthening their borders before the people of Sreng tried to take advantage of Faerghus’ distraction. So for the moment, he didn’t want to think of battle. Instead, he’d think about what was around him, and the short bit of peace he was allowed before it all came crumbling down.

As it was, things were going smoothly. Ferdinand and Linhardt had stayed in Enbarr to try to calm things down (alongside a few other empire recruits, though their political role was much smaller), so Dimitri had felt confident enough to make his way back to Fhirdiad after about a week of occupying the city. Marianne and the troops Claude had lent them had returned to Alliance territory to talk to Lorenz, who’d taken it upon himself to bring peace to the region after Claude’s departure, so she could inform him of Dimitri’s plans. Byleth and the Knights of Seiros had ridden alongside the royal guard for a time but had eventually split from them to return to the Monastery. A large part of the army of Faerghus had gone ahead to Fhirdiad and several other major Faerghan cities along the way to secure a path for the king, and others had remained in Enbarr. That left Dimitri alone with only a few dozen regular troops and his personal guard, made up of the former Blue Lions. 

Sylvain, of course, traveled among them.

He rode to Dimitri’s left, Dedue having taken up the right side and Felix riding out front. Ingrid flew above them, while Mercedes and Annette rode just behind, Ashe taking up the rear. It was nice to be together again. It was almost like they were little Lions again, going out for a class mission to wherever the church saw fit. The only thing missing was the professor. Though Sylvain didn’t mind that much. He instead focused on the man to his right.

“Say, Your Majesty...where do we go from here?” he asked, not really caring what the answer was. Just a conversation starter. Just something to hear Dimitri’s voice.

Dimitri jolted slightly, blinking rapidly when his eye finally landed on Sylvain. “Pardon?”

He must’ve been absorbed in his own thoughts and missed what Sylvain said. But that was fair. Dimitri had a lot to think about, being king and all. He’d been gone for so long it would take ages to catch up on everything that had happened, not to mention trying to keep track of what was going on in the present. Sylvain would be happy to help him with that though. To stay at his side, like a good friend. A good Margrave, when the time came. 

Well. If Sylvain could be a good anything. That was pretty questionable at this point. He’d try, though. Anything for Dimitri. 

“I was just wondering what your plans are from here on out. Do you have any lofty goals bouncing around in that head of yours?”

Dimitri hummed. “I’m afraid I have so many I don’t even know where to begin. Things that I would like to do, but cannot determine the order in which to do them. Or things that I would like to do but fear would likely conflict with each other, meaning I would have to prioritize one over the other and abandon one until a time came when I could hopefully bring it back.”

Sylvain chuckled. “Yeah. Of course you do.” He ran a hand through his hair. “How about this: choose one, _any_ one, and tell me about it. You don’t have to go through all the lead-up to it. Imagine you were starting in the perfect world for it to go down and go from there.”

“The perfect world,” Dimitri mused. “If only such a place existed. But it doesn’t, and I fear we might never so much as come close during our lifetimes with how much work has to be done.”

Sylvain scoffed. “Come on, Your Majesty! No need to be so pessimistic. If you’re so worried about that, then all you’ve gotta do is live a nice long life. Then you’ll have plenty of time to get everything done and more. That, and have some more confidence in yourself. You’re a way stronger and more capable person than you’re making yourself out to be.”

Briefly, he wished they were walking, rather than on horseback. If they were, then Sylvain could easily lean over to Dimitri and wrap an arm around his shoulders. Maybe even ruffle his hair a bit. (Though that had been a lot easier when Dimitri was shorter than him. Now… It was a bit of a reach, but not impossible. Probably. Sylvain hadn’t actually tried since they’d reunited. He’d have to fix that soon, before they reached Fhirdiad and Sylvain had to depart for his own territory).

Dimitri shook his head. Always so serious! “I’m being realistic, not pessimistic. And there’s no need to refer to me as ‘Your Majesty.’ Though we retook Fhirdiad I’ve yet to have an official coronation, so it would still be Highness. Not to mention you’ve been my friend since birth, and one of my closest companions since I had any real understanding of the world around me. And these past few months...You’ve supported me in ways few can match up to. Please call me by my name, Sylvain. Dimitri is fine. Not just fine, preferred. So please.”

Ah. His name. Calling him by name after having held off for so long was weird. Intimate. Dimitri didn’t realize, of course. But it was something Sylvain treasured, something he only said aloud when he was alone, like it was something special. Something precious.

So like a true pro at dealing with his feelings, Sylvain tried to push it off. “I don’t know… That’s a pretty heavy request. You might have to make that an order, Your Majesty.”

For a split second Sylvain could swear he saw Dimitri roll his eye. But Dimitri was so proper, he’d never do that. Would he?

Dimitri then sighed, staring straight ahead. He looked Sylvain directly in the eye. “Sylvain.”

No other words were spoken. The power behind Dimitri’s voice was loud and clear. This wasn't a battle Sylvain wasn't going to win. (Was it even one he wanted to win? To win meant there would be a barrier between them; a title and formality that would always enforce a distance between him and Dimitri that Sylvain had wanted so long to overcome.) 

Sylvain gave him a wink. “As you wish, Dimitri.”

The name almost caught in his throat. It was weird saying it aloud. A precious thing, out in the open where Dedue and Felix and Ingrid and everyone else around could hear it. Only Mercedes ever called Dimitri by name, but she was special. For Sylvain...it was just weird.

“Thank you,” Dimitri said, sighing once more. “I don’t know what everyone has against saying my name. You would think it was some sort of curse with the way people react to my asking them to refer to me by it. The beginning of some terrible incantation, even.”

“Never!” Sylvain shouted back. “You’re a treasure, not a curse.”

Dimitri blinked. His mouth opened a little bit. Then it closed. Then it opened again, only to close once more without any words.

Whoops. Sylvain certainly hadn’t meant to let that slip. But he was a flirt. He could play it off like a joke. Everyone would accept that, wouldn’t they?

“Come on, Dimitri! Learn to take a compliment. Ingrid can. Listen to this.” He brought his hands to his lips, cupping them as he tilted his head up to where Ingrid was flying above. “Hey Ingrid! You’ve got an absolutely radiant smile! So much so that I can see the beams of light shining down on me even way down here!”

Something was thrown at his head. Sylvain quickly nudged his horse to move out of the way.

“It’s called the sun, you dumb flirt!” Ingrid yelled back, not even bothering to fly down to reach him.

Sylvain turned back to Dimitri, gesturing upwards. “See? Takes it like a pro.”

Dimitri pursed his lips. Bit them. And then Sylvain watched as he stiffened up, his chest rising and falling over and over until Dimitri started to shake and finally burst out laughing, leaning forward on his horse until his face, resting on his hand, was hidden by the steed’s mane. 

Felix was the next to shout. “Watch where you’re going! You’re going to run me over if you keep doing that.”

“Do not worry,” Dedue responded, riding closer to Dimitri and putting a hand on Dimitri’s horse. “I will keep His Majesty on pace.”

“Dimitri,” said main said through poorly contained laughter.

“Your Majesty,” Dedue repeated.

Dimitri looked to Sylvain, a clear beg present in his eyes. 

“Dimitri,” Sylvain responded. Saying the name still made his heart skip a beat.

A warm smile. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

“Be careful, now. Before you know it I might ask you to do something you wouldn’t like.”

“You would never. Not unless you thought it was good for me, and even if I did gripe about it, I’d probably agree in the end. You probably look out for me more than my own father does!”

A pause. “Sylvain, that’s…” Dimitri trailed off.

Sylvain spoke up again before Dimitri could continue. They were _not_ getting into that right now. What was with him today, crossing all the lines he'd set out for himself to avoid years before? “Don’t worry about it. Another joke that fell flat. Anyway, about those plans…?”

“Don’t worry about them. They aren’t important for the moment. Instead, I think we should talk about yours.”

“Not important? Dimitri, the future of all of Faerghus, of all of _Fódlan_ rests on those plans. My life’s basically nothing in the face of those. Except as a peacekeeper for the Sreng border. But you could probably throw Felix up there if worse came to worst. We’ve got much bigger things to concern ourselves with.”

“Sylvain.” 

There was that tone of voice again. The one where Dimitri was judging him. Where he was full of sadness and pity and weight and longing and who knows what else but it was heavy. Sylvain didn’t like it. He felt exposed. He preferred the laughing Dimitri. Or the yelling Dimitri. The passionate Dimitri, not the one who saw straight through him and brought it all out.

Dimitri led his horse toward Sylvain’s. Any closer and their legs might tangle.

“Sylvain, the moment you start speaking like that is the moment I can tell something is up.”

“It’s no big deal, really. Especially not with everything else going on.”

“It is. Faerghus won’t collapse because I spent an hour talking to you about your personal life. If anything it will benefit from our conversation. You’re a capable leader, Sylvain. While I was off spending five years running around like a madman, you were holding on to the last slivers of Faerghus with a grip I could not replicate. You kept Faerghus from being crushed.” Sylvain took a breath to begin his counter, but Dimitri cut him off with narrowed eyes. “Don’t make excuses. Your father helped, yes, but you were far from inactive. While he kept an iron hold on his own territory, it was you who rode across the country, fighting off Empire soldiers and rallying the people to stay strong. You who worked with Lord Rodrigue to make sure Charon and Galatea did not fall to the Empire’s grasp despite their few resources and men. You, who never gave up on me. Who kept searching, despite the seeming impossibility of my survival. I am in your debt, Sylvain. I, and all of Faerghus.”

His eye bore a hole into Sylvain’s soul. 

Or, not a hole. A hole hurt. This...it hurt, in a way. But that kind of hurt that came with a healing wound. The itch on a scab that meant you were healing underneath. Letting you know that yes, something was wrong, but it was getting better. 

“Hey, Dimitri…” Sylvain’s voice came out much weaker than he wanted it to.

Dimitri leaned just far enough over to put a hand on Sylvain’s shoulder without falling out of his saddle.

“We’ll talk more tonight, in private. I hope you’ll consider being honest with me.”

Sylvain swallowed. Then he nodded.

The smile Dimitri gave in response just about choked him.

“Ingrid!” Dimitri bellowed, prompting a shout of ‘yes!’ from the flyer, “Can you scout out a place for us to set up camp? The sun will set soon and I do not want to be caught unawares.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

She then darted forward, a white blur rushing ahead in the sky.

“We could probably go for about an hour more, you know,” Sylvain commented, just loud enough for Dimitri to hear but no one else.

“Perhaps. But the longer we ride the longer it will take before we can have this conversation, and the less time we have to have it in.”

“We’re on a schedule.”

“Fhirdid will not burn down if we arrive an hour late.”

“You never know.”

“I pray to the Goddess that it does not.”

“I thought you said that you thought she couldn’t actually do anything. Or didn’t want to. Whatever.”

“Recent events have changed my mind slightly.”

“Only slightly?”

“It’s hard to change after so many years of thinking she had abandoned me. But I would be a poor king of a Holy Kingdom if I was completely without faith. And as I’ve said, with the way recent events have gone…”

“It’s a bit hard to believe there’s no Goddess after all that, yeah. Byleth sure made some impressive scenes.”

They both trailed off. 

After a few minutes Dimitri began to outline his plan for reparations with Duscur. Possible deals with Alliance merchants to repair and open new trans-continental trade routes. Methods of dealing with the nobles who had betrayed Dimitri when Cornelia was in power, and had either supported his execution or handed their territory to the Empire without complaint. 

It was amazing how much thought Dimitri had already put into those things. Sylvain had some ideas, sure, but nothing as complex as Dimitri had. 

Dimitri tried to shove off Sylvain’s praise by insisting that all they were were thoughts, that they likely were impractical when put into the context of the current state of events and so on. But Sylvain wouldn’t budge, and soon the last hour of their march had passed and the group had set up camp in a clearing by a small stream.

Normally Dimitri shared a tent with Dedue, who insisted he be close to guard Dimitri from potential attack. Sylvain then shared with Felix, the only other noble of equal status.

(Ingrid had her own tent; she used to share with Dorothea, but Dorothea had remained in the empire following the battle with Edelgard. She’d been visiting Ferdinand’s tent more and more over the course of the last few weeks they were together anyway, so Ingrid had been sleeping alone for a while. While the noble-commoner gap wasn’t something Dimitri wanted to enforce, it wasn’t something they were able to bridge right away. Superior officers sleeping with the ‘grunts’ was frowned upon anyway in Faerghan military tradition. So while Mercedes and Annette shared a tent, that was about it for mixing.)

Tonight, however, Dimitri asked that Dedue switch with Sylvain. Felix didn’t have any complaints, so long as Dedue didn’t disturb his sleep by getting up to check on Dimitri. Dedue had none either, only a request that Sylvain keep an eye out for Dimitri. 

And so, shortly after they set up camp, Sylvain found himself alone in a tent with Dimitri, staring at his soon-to-be-king as they sat on their respective bedrolls facing each other.

Again, Dimitri opened and closed his mouth a few times as if he wanted to say something. But nothing was said, and thus they simply stared for a fair few minutes.

Sylvain decided to begin the conversation with a sigh. “Look, Dimitri. I know you’re worried about me and all, but it’s no big deal. Not all families are alike. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but while I know you’ve lost yours, and that’s one of the worst things I can imagine, I think you were pretty lucky while they were still around. King Lambert was amazing, and I remember the way you always used to gush about him to us. Your stepmother too. Even if she could be distant at times, the stories you told were of a kind woman who cared for you like a blood-son. Your uncle...can be ignored. Every family has a rotten apple. Point is, you had a great family. So naturally, most other families would seem kind of poor in comparison. That’s where mine comes in.

“Part of it was the sibling rivalry. Part of that was the crest-no crest thing. Miklan was a bit harsh, and my dad kind of liked to pit us against each other. Or tell me to be better because Miklan was better and he didn’t even have a crest so I needed to catch up or I’d kind of be a failure but I mean he did stop once I turned fourteen or so and he realized I wasn’t going to be any better or anything and from there it was mostly just disappointed sighs but nothing _actually_ bad-”

Dimitri’s eyebrows had furrowed in an angry way, his mouth shut tight and lips thin. 

Suddenly Sylvain realized how bad what he had said might sound and tried to swing things around to fix it.

“But really, you don’t need to worry about it! It’s no big deal. Like I said, my dad has been pretty apathetic since I was fourteen. It’s been over a decade since I first had to put up with his sighs of ‘Really Sylvain, if you would only apply yourself more,’ and the constant mentions of ‘Sylvain, Sreng is on our border and will never let up. As the heir to House Gautier, it is your duty to carry on the line and defend Faerghus from the northern invaders,’ and all that. At this point it’s all background noise and I pretty much just tune him out. So no worries there. He’s not that much of a bother.”

Sylvain winked at the end, throwing up a smile to show he was okay.

Dimitri didn't buy it. Of course he didn't. 

Damn, Sylvain was usually better at these sort of things. Deflecting was his strong suit. Then again, he usually didn't get so deep into talking about himself.

"Sylvain…"

"You've been saying that a lot lately. Say it any more and I think you might run out of your lifetime allowance of name-saying."

"Sylvain." A short clip. Sadness behind it. "You know I care for you."

Sylvain nodded. "Of course. We're friends."

Dimitri winced for some reason. "Yes. _Friends_." He said the last word in an odd tone, as if he were trying to spite it. "And as... _friends_ , I want the best for you."

Sylvain nodded, urging him on.

"I am far from an expert on family relations. I am not very good at relationships in general, as you have let me know over the years. But even I can tell something is going on that shouldn't be. Your relationship with your father is…" Dimitri paused, twirling part of his bangs for a moment while he sat hunched over in thought. "Not good."

Sylvain let out a dry laugh. "Yeah. 'Not good' is one way to put it."

Dimitri raised an eyebrow. "You admit it then?"

"...I guess. There's no hiding it. My father and I don't get along. I'm a living weapon to him. The convenient meat bag that makes the Lance of Ruin move, and the sack of bones that's going to continue his bloodline. I just unfortunately have a less-than-ideal personality and set of values to go along with all that. And I've come to terms with it. Being all buddy-buddy, happy father-and-son with him might've nice, but we're long past that and it's too late to go back."

"Do you truly believe that?"

"I do. He...he specifically requested the Blue Lions to be the ones to fight Miklan, you know. And not just the Blue Lions. He specifically wanted me there. And while you could argue that that was supposed to be to secure the Lance of Ruin, it wasn't just that. He wanted me to be the one to kill Miklan. Not just fight him. To kill him. To prove the power of the crest would dominate, and that House Gautier would accept no failures. And before you ask me how I know that, it's because he told me when he gave me the Lance of Ruin after we took out the rogues in his territory. Five, going in six years, and I still remember the absolute lack of care on his face as he admitted he wanted one son to murder the other. Even if he admits he was wrong, that he was cruel to me, he can never undo that. He can never be a friendly dad. A neutral dad, maybe. Possibly an agreeable dad if some miracle happens. But he'll never be...he'll never be the kind of dad a dad should be. Not the one I want. Some things can't be forgiven, no matter what."

Silence from Dimitri.

That was happening a lot, wasn't it?

But Dimitri liked to think things through. Silence was just a sign of thought. 

And the silence eventually broke, giving way in the face of something Sylvain hadn't remotely expected.

Dimitri leaned over to hug him.

It was an awkward hug, for sure. Dimitri only scooted forward from his bed roll slightly, so he was leaning fairly heavily. And his arms were stiff, like he'd forgotten how to hug (and he probably had, quite frankly, because Dimitri had nearly stopped touching people entirely after Duscur). But his chin on Sylvain's right shoulder was a comforting weight, and Sylvain couldn't say he was entirely opposed to the soft tickle of Dimitri's hair hitting his nose.

"I'm sorry," Dimitri finally whispered, tightening his grip. He must've been concentrating pretty hard, because it didn't hurt a bit. "Even when we were children I could tell something was wrong with your home life, and yet I've never tried to help until now. I have failed you, and for that I apologize."

Sylvain huffed and pushed his face further into Dimitri's hair, scooting a little closer so the lean wasn't so awkward. "Don't apologize. You were a kid with your own troubles. I was older than you. It wasn't your responsibility to take down my dad and make everything right. You were just a kid. He was the adult. He should've been the one to realize he was wrong. Him, or my mom who stood by him, or any number of people who had an idea of what was going on. You don't hold any fault. Not then, not ever. You're trying now, and that's what matters. So thank you."

Sylvain moved his arms up to return the hug. Dimitri stiffened for a brief moment, but a split second layer relaxed into the hug. They stayed like that for a good minute or two before finally splitting to look at each other once again.

"Man," Sylvain said, running a hand through his hair. "It's gonna be really awkward when we get to Fhirdiad and I have to say my farewells to go back to everything. I've never cared about looking my old man in the eye, but now I'm going to be thinking all these dumb intense things and it's going to be so much worse, isn't it!"

"Sylvain, you do realize that making jokes about situations just makes me more worried for you, not less."

"Maybe, but that's how I've dealt with all my problems for the last 10 years so it's kind of a habit at this point."

"It's one you should break, if you ask me."

"But that would mean actually _dealing_ with my problems Dimitri. Who even does that?"

"I cannot say I've been the most exemplary model of that, but we could try to improve together."

"I hate to break it to you, but the whole being together thing isn't going to last much longer."

"But will it?"

Sylvain frowned. What did that mean?

He tried to get an explanation. "We're splitting once we reach Fhirdiad, aren't we? When you stay to govern and I say my goodbyes so I can return to Gautier Territory to act as my dad's errand boy again."

Dimitri hummed. "Is that what you want to do?"

Sylvain's frown deepened. "Not really, but what else is there to do?"

"You could stay with me for a time," Dimitri offered. "It'll be quite the ordeal trying to reorganize the local government and determine who is in control of what area after all the power shuffles, allegiance shifts, deaths, and more that have happened over the past five years. I could really benefit from some help dealing with all of that."

"Are you sure?" Sylvain's voice cracked slightly. Dimitri wanted him to...stay? "I mean, my dad's probably expecting me back home to deal with Sreng and all that."

"Your father could wait while you were at war, so he can wait while you are helping me. He will be in Gautier territory acting as Margrave, so it isn't as if the region will fall to pieces while you're gone. Though he's far from a great father, he has proven himself an effective lord, and I've no doubts about his ability to manage the region alone. Unless you truly wish to say your farewells and return home once we reach Fhirdiad…?" Dimitri quitted an eyebrow with his last sentence.

Sylvain fervently shook his head in response. "No, no, no! Of course not! If you'd really have me, then I'd love to stay with you. I'll help you with whatever you need. Really. I'll be your closest confidant. Your best friend."

Dimitri winced again. Sylvain didn't get it. What had he done?

"My closest friend. I see." He bit his lip, thinking something over. Then, he spoke. "And if I wished for you to be something more?"

More?

What did-

Sylvain's eyebrows shot up. "Wait. You don't mean…"

Dimitri coughed once, looking away.

Sylvain pressed on. "So if you had a dagger on you right now, you would give it to me?"

Dimitri's eye locked back onto Sylvain as he spluttered. "Sylvain! Will you never let that go!?"

"Dimitri. You gave the girl you liked a dagger. Who does that?" Sylvain chuckled.

Dimitri spluttered some more. Then he seemed to come to some realization and reached behind himself, frantically rummaging through the pile where his armor lay. A moment later he turned to face Sylvain, hiding whatever he'd grabbed behind his back.

"Fine then. Sylvain, will you stay by my side once we return to Fhirdiad? You've become an irreplaceable companion, the dearest of friends, and if you would have it…" he moved his hands to the front of his body, presenting the item they held to Sylvain. It was a dagger. One Sylvain had seen him wear for years. "...something more."

A wide grin broke out on Sylvain's face. Then chuckles from his chest. Then tears from his eyes as he laughed harder and happier than he had in who knows how long.

He raised a hand to cover his eyes. "Never change, Dimitri, never change!" He dropped his hand and launched forward to hug Dimitri, the dagger flung away in the process.

"Is...is that a yes?" Dimitri stuttered, bewildered.

"What do you think it is?" Sylvain teased, head pressed into Dimitri's shoulder.

"I would say it is," Dimitri said, putting a hand on the back of Sylvain’s head and pulling him close.

Sylvain felt a blush cross his face. To think Dimitri would just...be okay with it all. That he liked him back. "And I would say you are right."

"Ah. Then...I'm glad. Thank you, Sylvain." Oh Goddess, was his voice rich.

Sylvain pulled away to look Dimitri in the eye. He put on a smile, a real one for a change. "Thank you, Dimitri. Really. I...I love you, you know."

Dimitri responded with a real smile of his own. "And I you.” 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I might do a few of the other prompts depending on how I feel, because I have a semi-scrapped 3k word Sylvain fic sitting in my drafts that could do with a revival. That one doesn't have any Dimitri though, so we'll say. 
> 
> Until next time.


End file.
